


Songs of Envy

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Community: gleeremix, F/F, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia's furious because instead of teaching, all her dance instructor does is provoke the random freshman girl in her class. Whatever is going on between them, it has to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs of Envy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penthea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penthea/gifts).
  * Inspired by [My Songs are of the Revolution](https://archiveofourown.org/works/516721) by [penthea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penthea/pseuds/penthea). 



> This story is a remix of two of [penthea's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/penthea/works) stories, since the second seemed to me to be a direct continuation of the first. The second is: [To Lose All My Senses](http://archiveofourown.org/works/520917). 
> 
> Lydia appears in 4x01 as the girl Cassie insults with the name "Muffin Top", but she is, for all intents and purposes, an OFC in this story, which is a remix of Penthea's stories from her perspective.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

"Hey, what's your name?" 

_Oh my god, she noticed me!_ , Lydia thinks as she turns and pastes a smile on her face, bracing herself. She'd heard things about Ms. July, and though she's hoping for praise, she thinks she knows what's coming.

"Uh, Lydia," she stammers, holding her ground when Ms. July puts a hand on her back and looks at her with disdain. 

"No, no. You're name's Muffin Top," and Lydia realizes that she hadn't, in fact, imagined those words coming out of Ms. July's mouth a moment ago. Her smile falters, but she steels herself, determined to take it. "And from now on it’s rice cakes and ipecac, or cut off a butt cheek because you need to drop a few."

Lydia struggles to keep the smile on her face, nodding as if she agrees that yes, she does in fact want to lopsided figure, because isn't that coming in style anyway? She breathes a sigh of relief when Ms. July's narrowed gaze slides from her to the girl right behind her. 

Lydia turns to watch as the bright eyed brunette talks to Ms. July. It's clear that he girl, Little Miss Schwimmer, clearly hasn't done her research on their teacher, because she smiles, bright and eager to please even as Ms. July berates her.

She doesn't know about Ms. July, but she will soon enough.

\----

In class, two days later, Lydia's jaw drops when that same girl calls Ms. July out on drinking at school. And yeah, it's completely obvious that she'd been drinking, because she's sure slurring her words, and Lydia's certain she can smell the vodka from clear across the room. No matter, Lydia's here to dance, and when Ms. July's not flirting with the male TA's or crushing students’s spirits she's kind of a good teacher. Sort of. Even if she seems to have forgotten that Lydia is in the class at all.

Lydia's putting on her toe shoes when she looks up to see Ms. July stalk to the center of the studio, and Lydia straightens to get a better view of whatever it is that Ms. July is going to demonstrate. 

Only it isn't a demonstration, that much is clear when Ms. July locks eyes with Little Miss Schwimmer, rips her skirt off and launches into what looks like a well-practiced routine with some of the other dancers. Lydia isn't sure what’s going on, but this performance isn't for her benefit, or for anyone else in the room except for Little Miss Schwimmer, who stands frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. 

The rest of her classmates are smiling, even watching appreciatively, and she doesn't understand how they don't have a problem with this because Ms. July is basically putting on a performance for one, random freshman. She doesn't get it at all, and she's mad because she worked so hard to get into this crazy expensive school, and now that she's here all her dance instructor does is spar with one of the other students. 

When Ms. July gets down on all fours to crawl toward Little Miss Schwimmer, Lydia scowls and balls her hands into tight fists. 

"You are my list," Ms. July says to Little Miss Schwimmer after she's finished grinding against male students, and Lydia starts to wonder if there's a point in showing up for this class at all since the teacher only seems to care about one student. 

Her hands hurt when she grasps the barre, and she looks down to see the dark red crescent-shaped indentations that her fingernails had left in the palms of her hand, some so deep that she’d actually managed to break the skin. She shakes her hands out, ignores the pain and dances, focusing on the music and the movement.

Ms. July hasn't said a word to her since that first day and Lydia knows that has to change, and so she goes to Ms. July's office after class only to pass Little Miss Schwimmer scurrying down the hallway on the way there. The girl's eyes are bright and her skin is blotchy as if she had been crying, but her hair is mussed as though hands were running through it just moments before. The girl meets Lydia's eyes for a fraction of a second, and Lydia sees what she thinks might be panic there, but then the girl is gone, brushing past her to walk down the hallway, around a corner and out of sight. 

Lydia knocks on the door to Ms. July's office.

"Back for some more, huh, Schwimmer?" The voice that comes from behind the partially-open door is languid, mocking.

"No," Lydia says, smiling as she pushes the door open. "Ms. July, I was hoping that I get your opinion on the best place to buy dance shoes?" 

She extends her leg forward, she knows they're her best feature, to show off the worn, comfortable old dance shoes she's wearing.

Ms. July squints at her. "Who are you?"

\---

A week later, Lydia thinks she's made progress. Ms. July actually remembered her name yesterday - her real name this time - and she had been paired up with one of the best dancers in the class to learn the tango, while the girl she's come to think of as her nemesis was sent to the corner to practice Jazz Hands. Rationally, Lydia knows that _nemesis_ is pushing it, an exaggeration, because she doesn't think that Little Miss Schwimmer is any more aware of her existence than Ms. July is, she's so focused on herself that other students don't seem to register. Emotionally, it feels as though this girl is commanding all of Ms. July’s energy, and Lydia can’t help be jealous despite the way that Ms. July treats Schwimmer. 

Today, Lydia's practicing at the bar when Little Miss Schwimmer turns up dressed like a Barbie doll, her hand on her hip and full of attitude that fits her as well as a burlap sack. Lydia tries to hide her smirk when Little Miss Schwimmer informs Ms. July that she's going to _show her_ how sexy she is. At this point, despite the presence of the boy-toy TA that the girl has trailing around behind her, it's abundantly clear that Little Miss Schwimmer has a crush on Ms. July. 

As with the week before, the dance class is put on hold for an ego-fueled performance by a would-be alpha female, only this time, it's the student instead of the teacher. Ms. July can get away with impromptu performances because she's the teacher, and any performance she does can at least be thought of as instruction, though "Americano" was pushing it. As for Little Miss Schwimmer, she's not a terrible dancer but everyone in the freshman class knows that she is a vocalist, and that dancing's not her strong point, so she has no place taking over the class like this. Lydia fumes, because, honestly, where does Schwimmer get off doing this? She has no right to take valuable learning time away from Lydia and the other students. Lydia came here to learn and hopefully become a star, not to play audience to whatever it was that was going on between this girl and their teacher. 

When the girl is done, she stands before Ms. July, clearly expecting praise for her tawdry and obvious display of sexuality, but instead Lydia watches as Ms. July verbally lashes out, and as Schwimmer is torn down Lydia is filled with heady a sense of gratification. She stands behind Ms. July, her arms folded over her chest, nodding in agreement as Ms. July compares the Little Miss Schwimmer's sex appeal to Shrek, to Willy Loman, and she watches as Schwimmer takes it until she fights back, cocky and cruel.

"We're the future, and you're just some YouTube joke!" 

There's an audible gasp from the rest of the students in the room, and the room is filled with a painful silence before Ms. July leans into Schwimmer’s space.

"You're done. Get out of my class," Ms. July says, and the expression that crosses Schwimmer’s face makes Lydia think she finally realizes she's gone too far.

"Get out of my class! Out!" 

Ms. July turns and points towards the door, and Schwimmer leaves. Lydia's not sorry to see her go.

\---

It's Thursday night, and Lydia is determined to get one last dance practice in before settling down to study music theory for what looks like the rest of the weekend. The dance studio is thankfully free, or at least it is according to the calendar, so she slings her bag over her shoulder and heads out of her dorm room toward the main building.

The hallways are quiet as she pads through them, her soft-soled shoes making no noise on the floor. She likes the school like this, instead of crowded with overly loud big-mouthed brunettes who try to make each and every class about themselves and their supposedly great talent.

The door to the studio is ajar and she reaches out to push it open. Her fingertips press against the wood, but she stops when she hears soft noises from inside. Which, damn, she'd really been hoping for some alone time to focus on the grueling routing that Ms. July is putting them through.

She thinks about going back to her room to study for her exam, but then decides that whoever is in there will just have to deal with having some company as they practice. 

Then she hears the moan. It's throaty and prurient and Lydia thinks that it sounds like Little Miss Schwimmer, and that doesn't surprise her, not really. Schwimmer's probably in there with that hot TA dude bro that helped her with her Britney Spears routine; Lydia's fairly certain that they're an item, and she supposes Schwimmer probably thinks it'd be the ultimate insult and triumph to fuck him in Ms. July's dance studio, the very place where she'd been humiliated for not being sexy enough.

It's a golden opportunity, so Lydia digs in her bag for her phone, determined to get a photo at least or a video if she can manage it. If she can get a picture of Little Miss Schwimmer messing around in the studio after hours, that'll surely get her banned from Ms. July's class for good, right? 

As quietly as possible, she eases the door open wide enough to peer into the dance studio, and pauses, shocked at the sight before her. 

Little Miss Schwimmer is there. So is Ms. July. And they're together, very obviously _together_.

They're on the floor, and Ms. July is straddling Schwimmer's half-naked body, her blonde hair falling in a curtain that conceals their faces. She can hear them breathing into the small space that Ms. July’s hair forms, Schwimmer’s hitching gasps a counter point to Ms. July’s inhalations. Schwimmer’s skirt is pushed up around her hips, and she’s not wearing anything underneath – her panties lying crumpled in a ball beside them. Most startling of all, Ms. July's hand is in between Schwimmer’s legs, moving and thrusting in time with the rolling of Schwimmer's hips. 

It's undeniably _hot_ , and Lydia tightens her thighs together to stifle throbbing between her legs, but that only makes it worse. There on the floor underneath her teacher, Schwimmer is anything but the sexless perfectionist that she seems in class. Lydia wonders if this is somehow part of a lesson, too – instruction meant for Schwimmer and Schwimmer alone, since clearly Ms. July is prohibited from providing this kind of hands-on mentoring in a classroom environment.

"Come on, Rachel. You can't fight this," Ms. July says, and Lydia startles, because she's never heard Ms. July call the girl by her real name. It was always Schwimmer, always, so often that Lydia only ever thinks of the girl by that name. But of course she has a real name, just like Lydia's real name isn't Muffin Top. It's Rachel, and right now Rachel is crying out a moan that sounds almost painful in its intensity as she comes, her body arching up off the floor towards her teacher's.

Lydia takes a picture, and then silently withdraws from the doorway before she turns to walk back the way she came, thankful that her sneakers make no noise.

\---

The next morning, she knocks on a door that she's never dared to even approach in the past.

"Ms. Thibodaux," she says after she is granted entrance. "I have something I think you should see."

//END


End file.
